“That is true, lad, and I have calculated for that.”

“You have?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“You will know if such an event should occur.  In the meantime let me tell you if a year should pass and you do not hear from me you will know that I am dead.”

“And then?”

“Tell Amy.”

“And then?”

“She may make a disclosure to you.  Remember, I have taken every precaution.”

“I do not know why you should withhold from me your life secret.  No harm could come of an immediate revelation, but of course you have your own reasons for withholding your story.”

“Yes, that is it, I have reasons; no harm might come of an immediate revelation, but I have reasons of a very satisfactory character to myself.  You will understand and appreciate them when they are made known to you.  Desmond, I am a changed man; you need have no fear concerning me now; time has righted a wrong.  I am strong now—­that is, normally strong—­all will go well, I believe, if not with me at least with you.”

A little later and our hero was on his way across the country to the town where he was to take the train, and a better equipped lad for adventure never boarded a train, and lo, he encountered several very thrilling adventures ere he arrived at the valley farm where kind hearts beat to greet him.

Desmond had been on the train but a few minutes really when he observed a tall, country-looking young fellow, who fixed his eyes on him.  As has been demonstrated all through our narrative, Desmond was a very quick, discerning chap; in the language of the day, he was “up to snuff,” and the instant he caught the eye of the country-looking fellow he knew that something was up, and he discerned more which will be disclosed as our narrative advances.

Desmond had not boarded a through train; he was to go to a large town where he would meet a through express.  The train he had entered was a way train, and he seated himself by the window.  No one was in the seat with him at first, but soon the country-looking chap took a seat beside him.  The latter appeared to be a jolly, innocent sort of chap, and he addressed the young adventurer with the words: 

“Hello!”

There came a merry gleam in Desmond’s eyes, as he asked: 

“Do you take me for a telephone?”

The stranger arched his eyebrows, and demanded: 

“A telephone?”

“Yes.”

“What makes you ask that question?”

“Because you yelled ‘hello’ in my ear.”

“I’ve heard about telephones, but I never saw one.”

“You never did?”

“No; what are they like?”

The question was asked seemingly in the most innocent manner, but the keen-witted Desmond’s suspicions were at once aroused, and on the instant he made a curious discovery.  The fellow was a make-up, under a disguise, and consequently under immediate suspicion also.